Of love and many, many other things
by ellina HOPE
Summary: Summer Hathaway. Freddy Jones. Their love is inevitable... so is their fighting... A collection of somewhat related oneshots. ::Going through revision::
1. I

I don't own School of Rock.

Of formulas, book bags and love

(A one-shot)

Summer Hathaway knew why she was there, in the classroom instead of eating lunch. Deep in her school-loving soul, she _knew_ what she was doing with her messenger bag bumping softly against her hip. (Momentum from her running kept it swinging, thank you inertia.) Deciding it was time to intervene with the laws of motion, Summer stilled the bag with her pale hand.

Tutoring struggling math students was the key to a good resume and getting a good recommendation from her pre-calculus teacher. That was what she told herself when she saw the drumming prodigy balancing a newly sharpened yellow pencil on his upper lip. Freddy Jones turned her way, causing the pencil to fall to the floor (Summer twitched a little when she noticed the graphite tip broke off) and he graced her with a wicked smile.

"Yo."

She ignored him, as she always did when he pretended (it was just pretend, right?) to hit on her. Sure, a simple greeting couldn't be flirting every time, but Summer knew that smile; she'd seen it on Freddy's face when he talked to other girls. Girls who loved the band and bought the merchandise and jumped up and down when they saw him coming.

Summer Hathaway was not one of those girls; she turned down that position way back in elementary school.

Freddy jumped a little as she slammed her bag on the table, meeting her more than slightly scary stare. Summer picked up his fallen pencil and, with an almost sinister voice, said, "let's begin." Her frightening demeanor melted into a smile, but Freddy couldn't tell which unsettled him more.

She brought out her math text, which looked familiar. Shouldn't have surprised him, he and Summer were in the same math class and they had received the same book at the start of year. The only difference was that hers was right in front of him and his was... was... not.

He began to flip through the pages leisurely, hoping to waste enough time that they wouldn't actually find the chapter and not actually begin tutoring. When he passed by chapter eight (the section he was supposed to be working on) and slid into chapter nine, Freddy yawned and continued flipping. Summer caught on fairly quickly, as she was watching him pretty closely, and yanked the book out of his grasp.

"You're useless!"

"And you're annoying, what's your point?" Summer rolled her eyes, avoiding the start of an old argument, and went back to chapter eight. She kept the book hidden from him but noticed how far he leaned forward in his chair. Not trusting Freddy (who was notorious for his wandering eyes during tests) she slapped her hand to cover the lists of formulas. "Summer, that is not fair."

"Neither is the fact that we have to see your ugly face everyday at band practice, but we deal." She smiled to take the sting out of her insult and he smirked at her over the table.

"Ouch, I think that one actually hurt me." Summer shook her head, trying to get control over the situation. Even if it was nice to joke around with Freddy, instead of getting into petty verbal fights, tutoring was tutoring and a college application was a college application. Never mind the fact that she was only a freshman. Early bird gets the worm and all that.

"All right Mr. Jones," he sat up straighter in his chair to mock her eagerness. "Tell me what the..." she peeked under her hand, "sum identity for sine is." He rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair to rest on the back two legs.

Fixing his annoyed stare on the ceiling, he dutifully repeated, "Sin(A+B)sinAcosB+cosAsinB. That was easy Summer." She fired formula after formula at him, asking for all the specifics, which Freddy delivered sounding bored and unimpressed. After a few seconds of silence, Summer stared at the book sadly. "What's up Tink?"

"There's nothing else for me to test you on... most of the problems are applications of those formulas..." Freddy smiled to himself, stretching his pale hands above his head. "Oh, don't look so proud of yourself!" Summer snapped, slamming the book shut. They both knew it was more for show and less for actual feeling. Secretly, the girl was happy they had finished so quickly. Maybe they could try and talk again.

"Chill Summer, it's all good. You get the brownie points and I get one less teacher pestering me." He stretched his arms above his head and Summer looked away so she wouldn't stare at the inch or so of pale abdomen. "Nothing to worry about." She found a distraction in shoving the math book back in her bag. Freddy observed the struggle with fascination. "Damn, what do you have in there?"

As she didn't fancy the idea of taking all her things out, Summer did her best to find a new, inventive way to make the book fit. "Just all my books, that's all." She grunted a little before stepping back and glaring at the offending school text, which was sticking half-out of the bag.

"Here," Freddy rounded the table, "lemme help you." Between the two of them (Freddy held it open as wide as it could stretch while Summer pushed down with both her hands) they managed to get the obnoxious thing situated neatly. Freddy made an exaggeration of wiping imaginary sweat off his forehead, which Summer watched in mild amusement.

"Thanks." He stretched again, as if the strenuous exercise of loading up a school bag had injured his back. She busied herself once more by zipping the over-sized purse shut.

"Hey, Tink." Summer straightened, adjusting the strap on her arm before tucking a bit of hair behind her ear.

"What's up?" He pointed to the clock nailed to the wall. Boring as the time-teller was, Summer noted that it was the sole witness to _friendly_ moments between a drummer and manager. "We still have, like, twenty minutes left." Freddy continued to ramble as he hefted his scuffed backpack onto one shoulder. "You wanna grab some food at that new taco stand? I'll pay."

Even though she knew they could be caught (as they were only freshmen and ninth graders were not allowed to leave the campus during lunch) and even as she weighed the risks of detentions and phone calls, Summer found herself agreeing. "All right," and in the end, she was pretty sure she was better for it.

Plus, Freddy was paying.

(end)

As you can see, there was much revision. I plan to go through this series and edit the hell out of it over Christmas break. We'll see how that goes.


	2. II

This is lunchmath!Summer version 2.0 with a more difficult math problem and a more persistent boyfriend. Why? Because Riemann Sums are obnoxious. For those not in Calculus, Riemann Sums is just a way to find out the area under a curve. It takes a long time and isn't even that accurate. For the record, I learned this gibberish last year, so I had to look up my notes and find a sample problem for you punks.

Of Riemann, birthdays and love

(A one-shot)

"So," Summer Hathaway murmured to herself as she scribbled on a sheet of notebook paper, "the integral is -x²+5 dx, going from 0 to 2. And, I'm supposed to use... five rectangles for this?" She nodded mostly for her own benefit as she consulted the text book in her lab, and continued muttering and scratching away with her pencil. "Delta X equals 0.4... And, it's calculator time." Blindly, she reached for her graphing calculator resting inches away from her so-far untouched lunch.

A helpful hand nudged the computing device into her searching path. "Talking to yourself is a sign of insanity, babe."

With a one quarter amused, three-fourths exasperated eye roll, she cocked her head up at the speaker. "You're one to talk about insane." That said, Summer returned her attention to her formulae and anti-derivatives. After a beat, she added, "and don't call me babe." It was spat with perhaps more venom than she intended and Freddy raised an eyebrow before stepping back a good two or three paces.

"Easy, sugar," he attempted to placate her, but the endearment only furthered her annoyance. She slammed her pencil onto the table with a snap as she turned to her head to stare up at him. In response, he eloquently put his hands up in the air to show his surrender.

"What, exactly, is so difficult about speaking my name?" She jutted her chin up at him with an indignant squint. He stuffed his hands in his pockets as he shrugged. "It's not that complicated to say, Jones. I was so sure that we had mastered two syllable words." When he didn't respond, she twisted in her seat to attend to her homework. Summer stared at the numbers and graphs without actually seeing them.

Freddy still hovered over her; his body heat warmed the back of her neck in an awkwardly comforting constant sort of way. "Hey, Summz," in spite of herself, she smiled at the nickname. It seemed fitting that, while she worked on computing Riemann Sums, he would call her that. She licked her dry lips twice before exhaling and turning to face her boyfriend.

"Yes, Frederick?" Gone from her tone was the previous viciousness. She sounded instead, tired and defeated. He narrowed his eyes as he took in the pallor of her cheeks and the slightly dull glaze infecting her otherwise impassioned stare. "Freddy?" She spoke again, in her quiet, questioning voice.

"Did I do something wrong to, y'know, piss you off, or... or something?" He shifted from one foot to the other and took his hand out of his pocket to scratch at the back of his neck. His ears pinkened slightly as he broke eye-contact and looked elsewhere.

"No," she sighed with a hint of a smile, "nothing out of the usual stunts you pull, anyway." He snorted in response but didn't deny the alluded mischief. "I just haven't been sleeping much..." Her voice trailed as her gaze shifted back to the text book in her lap. Freddy followed her focus and smirked.

"Yeah, too much studying." She ignored the jibe in favor of picking up her pencil and resuming her work. He watched her for a moment more, secretly marveling at her intelligence and dedication. When he was convinced that his brain trust of a girlfriend was utterly absorbed in her charts, he leaned over to kiss her gently, sugar-sweet and innocently on the cheek.

"Happy birthday, Summer Hathaway."

(end)


	3. III

There has been a severe lack of decent pizza in my life. We need to remedy this. Quickly. Maybe my managers will order me a pie during break tomorrow. Dream of dreams!

Of pizza, debates and love

(A one-shot)

Freddy Jones stretched out on the beat-up couch in Dewey's apartment. Due to an impending competition the following night, the band had called in an all-night practice fest. They were taking their second break in seven hours. It was a quarter past midnight (prime pizza time – if anyone wanted his opinion on the matter) and he was munching happily on his eighth slice.

On the other side of the room, Summer Hathaway picked through the empty pizza boxes with a slightly wrinkled nose. Freddy smiled around the sauce-cheese-meat orgy in his mouth and beckoned her over. He had tried to call her name, but succeeded in only bleating, "Thuh-maah!" The girl in question put her hands on her hips and cocked her head.

"What?"

With minor difficulty, he swallowed and tried again. "Summer!" Much better – if anyone wanted his opinion on the matter.

She raised an eyebrow, "yes?" He sat up and patted the seat cushion next to him with the back of his hand. His palm was covered in sauce and grease, which Freddy doubted Summer would appreciate being on the pillow upon which she was invited to reside. Despite his efforts to not contaminate her future sitting spot, she scrunched her nose in further disgust. Granted, that could be due to the pre-existing condition of the couch itself, and no fault of his pizza hands.

Whatever reservations she had in regards to sitting next to him were apparently pushed out of consideration as she daintily plopped down beside him. They had only been dating for a week and a half, so she was still a little uncomfortable with their boundaries – or lack thereof. She sat with a rigid spine and her hands folded in her lap. After finishing his slice and grabbing at a conveniently-placed roll of paper towels, Freddy cleaned his hands and balled up the make-shift napkin. Not even bothering with the old yawn-and-stretch, he simply slung an arm around Summer's tense shoulders and yanked her, literally, onto him.

She sprawled across him and froze. Half of her face was covered by a curtain of hair and her upper-body was practically plastered to his chest. Startled and mildly terrified, Summer looked up at him. He beamed down at her, "hi," and snagged another slice of pizza.

"Hello," she replied uncomfortably. She watched as he shoved half the slice in his still-grinning mouth. There was a very possible chance that he would get sauce on her head, if they weren't careful. "You're consuming a lot of pizza tonight."

"So?" He swallowed and regarded the half-eaten triangle in his hand, "it's delicious." He stared at it for a moment longer, "very delicious," he repeated and then stuffed the second half into his mouth. It was no small wonder that he had even survived this long with those eating habits.

"Jones," she began to lecture as she disentangled herself from him, "that's not very healthy." It took a long minute for him to swallow the partially-chewed mass.

"I disagree," he stated grandly and tried to pull her to him again. It was nice having her solid, feminine weight curled into his side. "Quite nearly all the food groups are represented."

She attempted to struggle against his persistent arms. It was a losing battle and she resigned herself to being cuddled. Freddy Jones was a boy who thrived on constant physical contact. With anyone or anything in a five-foot radius. "No they aren't."

He gave a short burst of disbelieving laughter, as if this was a common argument he had. Knowing her boyfriend (it still felt weird to call him that), it was. "Summer, Summer, Summer," he tsked, "you've got your dairy, your grain, your meat, your fruits and veggies... basically everything." Another piece of pizza materialized in his hand.

"You're incorrigible," Summer exhaled and relaxed in his embrace. His warmth was a little hypnotizing and she felt herself being soothed into an almost sleep-like state. That was, until he poked her shoulder repeatedly.

"Open up, missy." She cracked open an eye to find a slice of pizza not even a centimeter away from her face. She blinked in surprise.

"What?" Freddy seized his opportunity and all but choked his girlfriend as he force-fed her pizza. Oh the courtship rituals of the young and in love.


	4. IV

This has to be the strangest one-shot I've ever written... I'm crazy, eh? It got a lot of mixed reactions from my friends. I guess this is slightly OOC, I'm not sure. AND, I still apologize for my other SoR fic, I've got horrid writer's block.  
  
Of space, marriage and love  
  
(A one-shot)  
  
. :: .  
  
"I wanna go to the moon." Freddy Jones raised an eyebrow. "Well, maybe not the moon per say, but somewhere out in space."  
  
"Summer, what the hell are you talking about?" She sighed, tapping a picture of the solar system.  
  
"I want to be the first woman on Mars... and watch your language."  
  
"What happened to being the first chick president?" Summer shrugged.  
  
"I can do both, I suppose. It'd be cool to be the first woman president, but, I mean _space_... It's so big... and so... empty."  
  
"Yes, babe, I know." So engrossed, was Summer, that she failed to notice the nick name. She picked up her book and began pacing with it, muttering to herself. "Uh, Summer?"  
  
"Pluto must be freezing! What, with temperatures like that!"  
  
"People are staring at you." Summer froze, mid step, and glanced around the library. A few curious eyes peered at her over books. Freddy wrapped a sly arm around her waist, pulling her onto his lap.  
  
"Freddy!"  
  
"What?" He mimicked her squeak. "Hey, when we get married, do you want to spend our honey moon on Mars?"  
  
"Who says we're getting married, Jones?" He shrugged, studying the ceiling, his arm still wrapped around her waist.  
  
"I figure once you get elected president, and then trained as an astronaut, we'll get hitched."  
  
"You put it so eloquently, how can I refuse?"  
  
"Good." And, in the library, with everyone watching, Freddy Jones kissed Summer Hathaway's lips. She stayed perched on his laps, the book resting on her knees for the remainder of study hall. 


	5. V

I just received my first flame for this story... collection... I think I'm gonna cry... Oh, minor OOC-ness, by the way. If you need someone to yell at for it, there's always that flamer.  
  
Of depression, forgetfulness and love  
  
(A one-shot)  
  
. :: .  
  
"Hey, Summer." Freddy Jones sat opposite his girlfriend at the lunch table. She didn't even look up from her carrot sticks. "Are you okay?" She shrugged. "Are you mad at me?" He quickly scanned his mental calendar, trying to see if he forgot anything. Their six month anniversary was coming up, but he hadn't missed it yet.  
  
"No, I'm fine." Freddy didn't believe her, and made a note to pester her about it later. He prodded at his cafeteria pizza with a fork, judging it. The drummer opened his mouth to comment on the questionable state of his lunch, when Summer raised her eyes from her salad. "Do I matter to the band?"  
  
"Of course you do!"  
  
"What am I to them?" Freddy would've laughed, if it hadn't been for the distressed expression on her face. "Answer me, Frederick! What am I to them?"  
  
"You...are their— our manager. That's what you are." The air around her became thick with feelings of unrest.  
  
"That's it?" She was about to cry, it seemed. Freddy put his brain into action.  
  
"Summer! That's not just it. You're the one who got us our first gig. You're the one who helped us pull it off! Did you forget that? Did you forget how you helped Zack with his homework almost every night until he was passing math? Did you forget how you talked our folks into letting us get out of school for that competition in California?"  
  
"That's all I do! I help around back stage...I feel so worthless to you guys... and to you, Freddy."  
  
"We need your support!" His blue eyes sparked with anger and frustration. "And, you're anything but worthless, especially to me!"  
  
"Yeah?" Came her dejected reply, "prove it." Freddy growled, getting up from his seat. "Freddy?" He came around to her side of the table, and grabbed her shoulders. Summer squeaked, looking up at her boyfriend through her eye lashes.  
  
"Is this proof for you?" He pressed his lips to hers in a deep kiss. She almost pulled away, but his grip on her arms kept her in contact. Hesitantly, she raised her hands to rest on the back of his neck. It was her first real kiss.  
  
When they did finally pull away, Summer blushed. Freddy stared at the ground, almost shy. "Hey, Freddy?"  
  
"Hmm?"  
  
"Thanks."  
  
. :: .  
  
Um, about that kiss being her first real kiss... Freddy and Summer mainly only pecked on the lips, nothing major. And, I'm sorry if some of you wanted real kissage detail, I wasn't feeling much romance. I'll eventually get a major snog (make-out) session into one of these chapters. 


	6. VI

I apologize for the lack of writing on my part. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not dead. So, that rules out the "trampled by rampaging peacocks" theory. I'm getting into the last marking period of my first semester as a freshmen in high school. This is a damn good thing. Soon, I'll be celebrating Thanksgiving (which means my birthday) and then Christmas break. Which mean lots of time for writing! YAY!

For anyone who doesn't know: emo is a kind of music, short for emotional. Basically, it's kinda whiny or makes you want to cry. It usually has to deal with love or loss. And, it is accompanied by very lovely guitar. People who listen to emo tend to be more mopey and "sigh, I hate my life".

I don't own School of Rock, I just wish I was cool enough to.

And, any fellow emo fans, don't be offended. I'm writing this because I love emo. I swear, I'm not trying to piss anyone off. I just think the mopey girl/tough guy couple is cute.

Of smiles, emo, and love

(a one-shot)

It had been a gradual change, one so subtle you might've missed it. It started out slow; when she started humming John Mayer songs under her breath during math class. People never thought anything about it; School of Rock members were always singing. It was like an unwritten rule.

It progressed when she bought and downloaded Dashboard Confessional music almost obsessively. It only got worse when she began writing mopey poetry.

Soon it got to the point where she was never seen without a baggy sweatshirt, smudged eyeliner, and rectangular glasses. She didn't even need glasses. It was time they faced the truth.

Summer Hathaway had turned emo. And, in Freddy Jones's professional opinion, that was a problem.

"Summer?" He began hestitanly, catching up to her as she walked home after band practice. He had to be careful, watching what he said and how he said it. Sometimes, he swore his girlfriend would burst into tears at the very mention of her name.

"Good afternoon, Freddy." She had a notebook clutched tightly to her chest, and Freddy eyed the multiple safety pins on her sleeves. For once, she wasn't wearing her sweatshirt.

"Summz? Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, what's wrong?" She grabbed his arm, staring into his blue eyes worriedly. "Is something the matter at home?"

Freddy shook his head, laughing and wrapping an arm around Summer's waist. They continued walking. "On the contrary, everything is wonderful at home."

"That's good. I was scared something was wrong." He shook his head again, pressing his lips to her head, through her hair. Summer shifted in his embrace, winding her arms around his waist. "I love you, Freddy."

He could feel her smile against his neck, and he rolled his eyes heavenward. The original plan had been to shake the emotional funk out of his girlfriend, but what the hell? If she smiled, he was happy. "I love you too, Summer." She kissed his cheek. "Always and forever."

. :: . 

A bit different from my beginning thoughts, but what the hell? I like it, it's fluffy and cute, right? Does anyone else like the nickie (nickname) Summz? I think it's cute. Reminds me of my friend Ashumz or Shumz. This chapter is dedicated to I am not a chipmunk 13... she woke me up out of my funk. So, here ya' go. And, yes, Dashboard and John Mayer are emo. Don't deny it.


	7. VII

Hmm, this one's longer than usual. It was also written very late, so forgive any oddities.

Of fights, honor, and love

(a one-shot)

Zack Mooneyham kicked the door leading into the school open with one foot, keeping his hands in his pockets. He walked down the hallway to first period, a limping Freddy Jones following not far behind. The first boy addressed the latter with a smirk and laugh.

"That was awesome, dude. Watching that jerk go down made me wish for a camera." Freddy caught up with his friend and shared a half-hearted high-five. "Hey, man, you okay?" The blonde shrugged, while wiping his mouth.

"Yeah, I just hope Summer doesn't find out I was fighting." He looked down at his shirt sleeve and then touched his lower lip. "Aw, I think I'm bleeding. Bastard must've hit me harder that I noticed. Funny I didn't feel it."

Zack laughed, patting Freddy's shoulder. "Not really. You were pretty pissed off. I've never seen you that angry before. What set you off?" Freddy laughed too, then winced and rubbed his mouth.

"Nobody gets away with insulting my girl, you know? It just bugs me when people think they can get away with talking shit about Summer. She's special."

Zack rolled his eyes, "yes, I know. Everyone knows. It's not secret that you're in love with Summer Hathaway." Freddy stretched his arms over his head with an arrogant smile.

"Damn straight." Zack and he paused as the PA system crackled to life and God spoke to them all. They shared a worried look when the nasal voice made its announcement.

"Could Freddy Jones report to the principal's office?" It was a command more than a question. Zack sighed and patted his friend's shoulder. "Immediately, please. Freddy Jones to the principal's office."

"Sorry, Fred. You know what they say. No good deed ever goes unpunished."

"Who says that, man?"

"You know. Them." The blonde laughed a little, pumping a fist in the air as he sauntered down to the office. "Rock on man!" Zack blushed as an elderly teacher poked her head outside her classroom, motioning for him to be quiet.

Freddy looked out the window behind the principal's head, watching the cars drive by and following them with his eyes. This hadn't been the first time he found himself in the pit of hell, as it was lovingly called.

"Never in all my years of being a principal have I seen such a troublesome sophomore such as yourself, Frederick." The troublesome sophomore found his gaze stuck on the bald scalp of Principal Grolier. The words were out before he could stop them.

"Do you have to put sunscreen on your head?" The principal paused, but then continued as if nothing had happened.

"Now, I will ask you again. Did you or didn't you pick a fight with Cody Smith?" He folded his arms behind his head, leaning back in the chair. It all went downhill from there.

Freddy kicked the wall as he exited the office. He glared at the paper in his hands. His sentence for sticking up for his girlfriend was as follows: in school suspension and an extra two hours of detention prior. Summer, who had been waiting in the hall, stood up carefully.

"Freddy?" She touched his shoulder cautiously.

He snapped at her, "what?" She winced, but didn't back down.

"What's wrong? Why were you in the principal's office?"

"I got in a fight." He said it evenly, glaring at the floor with clenched fists. "And, now, I have to spend the rest of today in school suspension and detention after that." She tried to touch him again, but Freddy shook her off. "Forget it, I gotta go."

"Wait..." He turned to face her. "Why were you fighting?" Freddy blushed, not wanting her to know the real reason.

"Because... I could..." Something akin to disappointment showed in her face and voice. She lowered her head, hair falling across her eyes. He hated it when that happened; he thought Summer had the coolest eyes. They were deep brown and often acted like mirrors to her innermost thoughts.

"That's a stupid reason to fight." Summer Hathaway turned away with an air of finality, leaving Freddy Jones to contemplate the recent turn of events, alone. Again, the blonde vented his frustrations on the unsuspecting wall.

It was a little after 6 when he finally escaped from detention. He shuffled across the parking lot, keys and back pack in his left hand. He expected to unlock his car, drive home, and face certain death by parents. What he did not expect was a sudden attack from behind. Instantly, Freddy dropped his back pack, sending papers spilling across the ground. He covered the hands of his girlfriend with his.

"Why'd you do it? Why'd you get in a fight because of me?" He answered her questions with one of his own.

"Who told you?" Summer smiled against his back.

"Zack." Freddy groaned, rolling his eyes. "Still, why get in a fight over something as stupid as me?"

"No. It isn't." She blinked at the conviction in his voice. He stated it like it was a fact. "You're my girl. And, I love you. Plus, I have to defend your honor."

"Yeah," Summer laughed. "You do."

end 

I don't know what to make of it. Fluff? Okay. Sure. Whatever.

Review. Send me love. I like love. Who doesn't? I needed to change my breaks, to signify the end of my story, and start of author's note. Sorry. Stupid 


	8. VIII

A little late for Halloween, I know. Deal with it, okay? I had this thing started in mid-October, I think, it just never got very far. Lucky for you people, I cleaned my room and found it crumpled on the floor. Now, don't you feel loved? I also have a multi-chapter Freddy/Summer Christmas type story in the works, if my master plan goes according to ...plan... Okay, I just lost it all. That sentence is going nowhere and deserves to die. As a warning, I made Dewey kinda psycho. Sorry.

I don't own School of Rock, but I do own Micheal. He's a minor character, don't worry.

For those wondering, I am still mentally working on A pixie's broken wings. It shan't die that easily, I assure you.

Of pixie dust, concerts, and love

(a one-shot)

A slight breeze wafted in through the open window, bringing pleasant smells from outside. Summer Hathaway paused in fixing her hair to enjoy the autumn air sneaking into her room. After allowing herself the moment, she pushed the final bobby pin into place with an almost-wince. She turned her head this way and that to inspect her handiwork from all angles.

"Not bad," she pulled on a piece of hair that was left down and curled with a curling iron. It bounced back into place merrily. "All you need is faith, trust, and a pinch of pixie dust." Summer dug through her vanity drawers, pulling out various make-up containers. She dabbed a finger in a compact of face glitter, and went about the task of "glittering up".

It was Halloween night, and the School of Rock was performing at their high school dance. Each member of the band was dressing up, even the roadies and security detail. Summer was going as Tinker Bell, obviously. Only a few had shared their costume ideas, as many opted to keep it a secret.

Zack, for example, was dressing like Harry Potter, scar, wand, and glasses included. Lawrence had enlisted the help of several people to find the perfect pirate outfit. Michelle and Eleni decided to be an angel and devil, respectively. There were also rumors of Katie dressing up like Posh Spice. Marta had fashioned herself a trench coat and cat suit to be Trinity. Gordon, to complement her, dressed up as Neo with matching trench coat.

Once her face was sparkled to personal perfection, Summer uncapped a tube of clear lip gloss. While she didn't indulge in having many beauty products, she prided herself in owning the basics. Puckering her lips, she smiled at her reflection. "Most certainly, not bad."

Moving away from her vanity, Summer twirled around in the center of her room, feeling as if she could honestly fly away. Her layered skirt flared out around her thighs, and her wings flapped delicately against her back. She stood on tip-toes, stretching her fingers (with green painted nails) to the ceiling. Her magical moment was interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Summer, honey, your ride is here." Giving herself a final once-over in the mirror, Summer grabbed the small pouch of glitter from her vanity and opened the door. Her mother smiled, patting her cheek. "You look wonderful." She smiled her thanks and hurried to the door, pausing only to put on her sandals. "Bye Summer!" Summer waved to her mother, and hopped into the back seat of Katie's older brother's car.

"Hey, Summz."

"Hi Katie, or should I say, Posh Spice." Katie looked over her friend's costume as Summer buckled herself in.

"I must say, Freddy's gone have a heart attack when he sees you."

"You think so?" The bassist nodded, as her brother glanced at Summer in the rear-view mirror. "What do you think, Micheal?" Once she was situated, she tied the small bag of glitter around her wrist, leaving it to dangle there.

"Makes me wish I was five years younger." The girls laughed, Katie smacking her brother lightly on the side of his head. "Ow, hey! I'm driving here!" As their laughter subsided, Summer found herself staring out the window, pulling absentmindedly on a strand of hair.

"Hey." She looked up, meeting the curious stare of Katie. "Don't worry okay? Everything's gonna be fine." She nodded, moving her eyes back to the window and blurring scenery.

It was cold when they got out of the car, and Summer stamped her feet to keep warm as Katie talked to her brother through the open window.

"You're sure you don't want to come?" Micheal shook his head.

"I've an evening of romance planned with my girlfriend. Have fun though, I'll be back to pick you two up around 11." Summer waved with Katie as the he drove off and the car disappeared around the corner. The girls ran into the school, seeking warmth as soon as possible. They were met by Michelle, who was decked out with fluffy angel wings and white dress.

"Hey guys! Oh, Summer, I love your costume, Freddy's gonna flip! Katie! I love your shoes! Can I borrow them sometime? Oh, we're all in the cafeteria and stuff. You should see what other people are dressed as! This is so cool!" Katie laughed, putting an arm around the blonde's shoulders, mindful of her wings.

"I know it. What time do we go on again?"

Summer ran through the schedule mentally. "I think at 7 or something. It's 6:30 now... so we only have about half an hour before the other kids get here for the dance." Katie pointed in a vague direction down the hall.

"Lead us on then!"

The cafeteria was chaos. All the tables had been moved out of the way, and various members of School of Rock were running around, mad like. Dewey Finn stood in the middle of it all, waving his arms in the air and shouting. No one was affected by his anger though, they were used to it. At his feet were about 10 bags of various candies. Katie disappeared to tune her bass and set up, while Michelle found Eleni and they had a squeal fest.

"Dewey?" Summer approached the guitarist.

"Summer!" He looked almost surprised to see her. "Thank God you're here! We're having a major crisis." Panic took over the pixie, millions of catastrophic scenarios flew through her head. "We can't find Katie! Have you seen her?"

"Yeah." Breath escaped in a woosh. "She just got here. With me."

"Oh thank God! We're saved!" Summer patted his shoulder, rolling her eyes. "You can go help Freddy set up, you seem good at that." She turned to leave, paused, and looked back at him.

"Uh, what're the candy bags for?" Dewey smiled, clapping his hands together.

"We're gonna throw them into the crowd during the concert." Summer nodded, thinking it would've been better if she hadn't asked. As she moved to find Freddy, Dewey called out to someone, "No! For the love of God, don't do that!" Yep, just a regular old day of School of Rock.

She folded her arms across her chest, exasperated. After ten minutes of looking, she'd come up drummer-less. If he did need help setting up his instrument, it'd take longer than the 15 minutes they had left. A sudden breath on the back of neck stopped her worried considerations. The warm hands on her hips made her smile.

"Hello gorgeous." She rolled her eyes at the cliché. "And, how are we this evening." Summer turned around, but whatever she had planned to tell him was lost. Freddy Jones stood behind her, wearing an old tuxedo with a cape. On his head was a magnificent top hat, and he held a cane in his left hand.

"Wow." He smiled a wicked smile, moving forward to embrace her. She hugged him around the waist.

"I could say the same for you, Tinkerbell." She laughed, snuggling into his warmth. "Did you do all this yourself?" She nodded. "You look beautiful." Any other day, she would've shrugged off the compliment with a smile, but on that night, Summer felt a blush heat up her face and she looked up shyly.

Behind them, Dewey announced that the dance would be starting soon. She pulled away slightly, keeping her arms around him.

"I was supposed to help you set up your drums." Freddy laughed, pointing to a fully assembled drum set. "But, you did it already."

"I did, got Harry to help me." She cocked her to one side, raising a confused eyebrow. "Look behind you." She did, and Zack was plugging in some last-minute electronic cords. "Tinkerbell, meet Harry Potter." Summer laughed waving to the guitarist. He waved back enthusiastically.

"Nice costume."

"You should see Larry. He's even got a fake sword." As if on cue, Summer felt a poke on her back. "Ahoy Captain!" She laughed at the keyboardist when she did get a good look at his costume. Complete with an eye patch, the shy Asian boy looked like he belonged on a pirate ship.

"Good job Lawrence, I especially like the goatee." Lawrence smiled.

"Not to break you away from your lady love, Jones, but we need to get to our rock positions." Freddy sighed dramatically, kissed Summer briefly, then moved to his drum set.

They really were a good band, she decided as she watched the crowd of hysterical students. There was even a mini-mosh pit. True to his plan, Dewey had enlisted the help of Michelle, Eleni, and Summer to toss candy into the crowd. It was fun; the girls tried to see who could hit the most amount of people. 20 points if you got their eye.

Seeing as it was their school dance to enjoy too, the band only had to play a few songs before the DJ took over. Almost immediately, Freddy found Summer and asked her to dance with him.

"How can I resist?" The whole time they danced, she felt like he was staring at her. "What?"

"Nothing," he said it with amazement in his voice. "You just look... really pretty tonight." Summer smiled devilishly before pulling his head down. With her hands behind his neck, it was fairly easy to gain access to the little bag of glitter on her wrist. Still kissing him, Summer sprinkled fairy dust over her boyfriend and herself.

Freddy smiled against her mouth, hugging her even closer. One hand slid from her waist up to cradle the back of her skull. When they did pull apart, Summer felt smiley and giddy and there was glitter all over the brim of Freddy's top hat.

"Wow." She blushed, ducking slightly so he couldn't see her blush. "You are magic."

end

That's pretty long, yes? One of my longest chapters/one-shots. I'm requesting fan art for the "Of love and many, many other things" series. Just pick your favorite Freddy/Summer interaction and draw it. Leave me a review with your e-mail, I'll contact you, and then you can send it. Fanfiction isn't letting me put my e-mail addy in here, sorry. And, my master plan did go according to plan, so I plan to plan out my F/S Christmas fic sometime tomorrow and work on it over Thanksgiving and Christmas break. It'll be up and done by the end of this year, I hope. I'm not making any promises though.


	9. IX

Eh, even though I'm not getting much fan-fare, I'm still writing these. I am not a chipmunk and Sorority? This one's for you two. I'd like to think there are a few Freddy/Summer shippers out there reading this and just not reviewing. This one's for you guys too! Wow. I sound like a spoiled brat. Go me!

I don't own School of Rock. I just realized I didn't put a disclaimer in the earlier chapters. Oh snap. Freddy's kinda OOC in this... or he's just really bored/tired/lazy.

Of couches, boredom, and love

(a one-shot)

It was a lazy summer day, if you excuse the pun. His parents were away on a cruise, so, obviously, Freddy Jones had to use the lack of parent guidance to have a party. However, that wasn't until later that night. And, it was only noon. And, he was bored.

With a cold soda in hand, he rubbed at his eyes like the sleepy teenager he was. Seeing as there was nothing to do, he picked up a common act of boredom: annoying Summer Hathaway. He stretched out on the lovely couch, hoping to see the phone on the table located within 3 feet of his position.

It wasn't.

With a gasp of horror, Freddy realized that the phone was sitting on the kitchen table. The kitchen table was in the next room. That was yards away! Whatever was he to do? After he came to the disappointing conclusion that he didn't possess mental powers that could move telephones, he hoisted himself off the couch.

Laziness was going to be the death of America.

Freddy scratched the back of his leg with his foot as the phone rang at Summer's house. He stared out the window, marveling at how bright the sun was.

"Hello, this is Summer speaking."

Without bothering to reveal his identity, he said, "come over."

There was a slight pause. "Freddy?"

"Yup. I'm bored. Wanna come over?" While his girlfriend pondered his offer, Freddy found himself getting thirsty. It must've been the sun. To his utter sadness, however, he'd left his soda behind with the couch. There was noway he was moving more than once to get back to the couch.

Summer's chipper voice interrupted his musings, "sure! I'll be there in about 10 minutes, okay?"

He muttered an affirmative and shuffled back to his prized caffeine, making sure to take the phone with him. There was no way in hell he was getting up from that couch. Hopefully, the door was unlocked. Otherwise, Summer would just have to spend the day outside.

It was only after he laid back down that he noticed he was still wearing his pajama pants and t-shirt. Whatever.

He must've fallen asleep, because the next thing Freddy heard was Summer.

"Freddy? C'mon, wake up... Freddy..." He opened his eyes, focusing on a slightly blurring Summer.

"Where'd you come from?" She laughed, smoothing his hair back. "How'd you get into my house?"

"You invited me over, and the door was unlocked."

"Oh." He paused. "Is my head in your lap?"

"Yup."

"Oh." He sighed as she continued to play with his hair. "You smell good."

"Thank you." Summer kissed her fingers, then pressed them to his mouth. "Go back to sleep, sleepy head."

Freddy shifted, sitting up a little. "Only if you lie down with me." Seeing as the lovely couch was a big, lovely couch, there was no problem fitting two teenagers on it. Especially if they were skinny teenagers. Summer found herself lying with her head on his chest, and Freddy found his arm around her waist.

"G'night."

"Hmm," he kissed her hair before closing his eyes again.

end

Eh... don't' ask. It's all fluffy and lazy and feel-goody. Reviews, please?


	10. X

I'm feeling particularly vicious this chapter. There's an argument behind this, so allow me to get up on my soapbox. Here we go... I am so sick of the stories where our teenage heroes have sex. I'm so tired of them.

Want to know why?

Because that isn't reality. I don't care what you try and tell me. Most 15/16-year-olds know only about the physical aspects of sex, and either underestimate or forget about the emotional connections. They don't realize what kind of risk they're taking by having sex so young. Flame me if my thoughts offend you. Go for it. I'm more than prepared for this debate, kiddies.

How's that for an author's note?

Anyway, I don't own School of Rock. This fic is dedicated to all the girls out there who said no and to all their boyfriends who listened

Of hotel rooms, waltzes and love

(a one-shot)

She was crying. It was the farthest thing from beautiful Freddy Jones had ever seen. Summer Hathaway did not cry pretty, which was one of the many reasons why he hated watching her do it. Her face contorted, like she was trying to suffocate her emotions and, in turn, herself. Maybe, he reasoned, that's what made her so un-beautiful.

He tried to remember what she had looked like when they took that first step into itemhood. Her hair was once loose and it smelled obscenely delicious; nothing like the pinned and hair-sprayed wedding cake of curls perched on her cranium. Her eyes had been bright, not feverish or sickly, but happy and smiley; there was no trace of that joy in the eyeliner smudged bloodshot look now.

Freddy imagined he looked differently too, those few years ago. Certainly, he hadn't been wearing a tuxedo (the jacket was discarded on the floor, where she had taken it off him) and he probably hadn't appeared so annoyed when she first accepted his offer to see a movie. He almost smiled at the memory; it was one of the few movies he had seen with a girl that he actually watched.

Summer wrapped her skinny arms around her equally small waist, bowing her head. It was clearly obvious she wasn't thinking the same thoughts as the other. She bit at her painted lower lip in an attempt to silence the sobs. Freddy sighed and ran a hand through his hair; the other remained stuffed in his pant's pocket. He fingered the hotel room key absently, running his fingers over the sharp plastic edge.

"I… I'm sorry, Freddy." She apologized again, pushing one of the thin straps from her dress up her pale shoulders. Summer looked up at her boyfriend, hoping for his approval. With narrowed brown eyes, he stared steadily down at her with his blonde hair sticking up oddly. Even after their most vicious of vicious fights did she sound this defeated, this traumatized. Summer tried to hold his gaze but failed after a few moments. An anxious silence passed between the two as the faint bass line from the ballroom crept through the carpeted floor.

She opened her mouth again, but he cut her off. "Don't." Maybe it was sharper than he had intended it to sound. Summer hoped so because he did sound awfully mean. And, honestly, it wasn't her fault that she wasn't ready. Well. Maybe it was. But that didn't make it okay for him to be angry with her.

"Freddy," she had to be careful, she noted as he stiffened slightly. There was enough tension in the room, and it was quite far from sexual, and Summer knew how notorious she and her boyfriend were for fighting at any given moment. That in mind, she wanted to treat the situation delicately.

"Summer." At least he was responding.

"I'm sorry I freaked out." Freddy wished she would stop apologizing. Honestly, didn't she think he wanted anything besides _that_? Summer's status as a proud virgin was no secret, just like the fact that Freddy couldn't really remember his first time was no secret. He crossed his arms over his chest, about to tell her just that when she started talking again.

"Actually." Summer pursed her lips, something she did when she was thinking, and Freddy could almost put money on the fact that she was pondering the same train of thought as he. "No, I'm not really sorry." So much for delicately, Summer sighed in her mind, when she saw Freddy cross his arms. It was something he did when he was about to counter her. "I'm sorry I ruined our junior prom night, but I'm not sorry that I said no."

Freddy nodded sharply, setting Summer even further on edge, and said with finality, "good." He nodded, more to himself, a second time and eased himself onto the bed next to her. He sat with slightly hunched shoulders and titled his head up at her. She still looked a mess, but she had her Hathaway confidence back. Maybe, he reasoned, that was what made her truly beautiful. Instead of voicing this observation, Freddy leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her equally soft shoulder. She responded by threading her fingers through the artfully constructed spikes in his hair.

They sat in a much more comfortable silence; Freddy found himself almost falling asleep against her. It wasn't exactly something he would've minded. Then, she shifted and rubbed at her face with a fist, like a small child. "I feel grimy," she stated simply.

"Okay," he replied with eloquence. Her face did look a little caked-on, but she, herself, looked a little less victimized so it wasn't something that bothered him. Gently, she nudged him off her shoulder and stood up. He rested his hands between his knees and gazed up at her, almost in awe.

"I'm gonna go," she glanced in the direction of the small adjoining bathroom, "take a shower, okay?" He nodded. She nodded. He nodded again. She smiled in amusement and smoothed over her skirt. "I'll be back," she bent over (he tried not to look down her dress when she did so, and succeeded) to give him a peck on the cheek. He smoothed over her cheek with his hand and she hummed happily in his ear as she straightened.

As soon as the bathroom door shut, he flopped onto his back and used his heels to scoot up in the bed. Freddy grabbed the remote off the bedside table and listened for the click of the lock. There was none. With an amused smile, he turned on the TV and sought out some decent late-night television. The smile faded to a disgusted grimace when he realized that the only non-news channel working was MTV, which blew. Really, really blew. Like hardcore.

Fifteen minutes later, Summer edged out of the bathroom with steam billowing in her wake. She had neglected to bring a change of clothes so she had put her prom dress back on. Her hair was wet and hanging limply over her shoulders. Her face was tinged pink and looked a little raw. Turning off the television, Freddy sat up on the bed as she padded over to him. Her bare feet made no sound on the cushiony carpet. They both felt inexplicably shy.

"Hey," he greeted and scratched at the back of his neck.

"Hi," she replied and twisted her fingers together.

"Do you think... that is to say, would you like to dance with me?" What he actually intended to say was something along the lines of leaving the hotel and finding some place where they could just hang out. Somewhere public. But, all in all, dancing sounded nice too. Actually, he mused as he trailed his eyes innocently over his girlfriend, dancing sounded very nice.

"Okay," Summer nodded and smiled. Neither of them moved. After a beat, she asked, "don't we need some music?" He could've said something cheesy, something corny, about making their own, but instead he turned on the alarm clock radio. Over the airwaves floated a classical waltz. For a few measures, the two teenagers face each other. Freddy had yet to stand from the bed and Summer wasn't quite used to making the first move.

Feeling quite contrary, Summer bowed her head almost gallantly in Freddy's direction and offered him her hand.

"May I have this dance?"

(end)

What just happened? This is also dedicated to endymion015, who indirectly inspired me to get this chapter finished. I think I started it sometime in 2005, not gonna lie. Despite this time gap, I still feel the same. In fact, I think it may be _because _of this almost two year block. I've matured a lot, and I've watched my friends and the kids (yeah, at almost eighteen, we're still kids) around me grow and mature. My high school is quite nearly famous for the pregnant mother population, so I'm not naive enough to say that kids aren't having sex. They are, and that's not the argument I'm making in my earlier note. We underestimate the gravity of sex and we overestimate our abilities to be unchanged by it.


End file.
